


Teacher and Student (Darkiplier and Antisepticeye story)

by Burnt__Toast



Category: Antisepticeye - Fandom, Darkiplier - Fandom, Youtubers, alter egos - Fandom, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Antisepticeye Sean McLoughlin, Darkiplier - Freeform, Darkiplier Mark Fischbach, Electrocution, Human Mark Fischbach, Intimidation, Magic, Markiplier - Freeform, Multi, Oops, Pain, Sean McLoughlin Egos, Slight Masochism, Torture, Training, antisepticeye, hinting at danti??, jacksepticeye - Freeform, jse - Freeform, power
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-08-04 21:57:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16355000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burnt__Toast/pseuds/Burnt__Toast
Summary: Anti has been brutally defeated by Dark, and before getting crushed, Dark makes an offer with him. If he becomes his student, then he will spare his life, and teach him his ways in magic. However, Dark finds out something that makes him rethink his choices... what will he do to stop Anti from finding out this nightmarish truth...





	1. (Prologue) To Remember

Colors. Flashing, bright, neon colors. He felt them underneath his eyelids, within his bones, burning in his mind. It hurt more than anything he had ever felt before, especially around his gaping wounds. The blood felt as if it was gushing, uncontrollably painful. Every cut, stab, bruise, and scratch pulsed with indescribable pain. He felt himself screaming, screaming until his lungs ached, and his voice cracked. He hated this. He wanted to go home. He didn't want to be here, why in Satan's name did he take this career? He just wanted to earn some cash, he didn't think he'd be in this predicament... 

What felt like eons later, the agony subsided, and the colors ceased. He fell to the cold, stone ground, overwhelmingly spent. He couldn't manage to move a muscle, he could barely breathe. The rival stepped toward his shambled form, the weak body shaking in feebleness and fear. The injured individual moaned in pain, salty tears pouring from his eyes faster than gunfire. His scratched-up face was lifted by a violent pull on his hair, followed by his own whimpers. His eyes opened slowly to look his opponent in the face, his white pupils fogged by the sobs. 

"You should not have taken this job, little dove," the stranger uttered, his voice reverberating through his chest with a rich rumble, his raven colored hair falling down into his eyes as he gazed down. The weakened being would have snapped at him, make a snarky remark about his ensemble, but alas he could only wail with what strength he had. The strain on his roots was beginning to bother him more as the intruder held a tighter grip, and clenched it more tensely. He wept frailly, silently begging for mercy. The outsider only chuckled, finding amusement in the younger's tear-stained face. 

"Despite your loss, I praise you. Your power has potential you know. I can't seem to recall the last time someone actually ruffled my feathers as much as you did. Perhaps..." he trailed off, running his thumb over the injured's cheek, the digit was unnaturally cold and made him flinch at the contact, though the action was slightly comforting. Who did this guy think he is?! He nearly just murdered him in cold blood and now he's here, complimenting him. His anguish was only increasing, slashes and bruises only becoming worse the longer he didn't take care of them. He moaned again in weariness, he needed help... and fast...

"...perhaps I can alleviate your capabilities... you are quite youthful to be facing me, you know. You didn't just come here without a reason, right? A hit man job, I suppose. Whoever sent you is obviously not very considerate, hm? Now, I must ask you," he closed into him, leaning nearer to the wounded's face, "would you rather work for me, little dove?"

He had no clue what to do (not that there was much he could do, anyhow). What should he do? If he said no, he could kill him immediately, squish him under his shoe like an ant. If he said yes, who knows what this guy would do to him? What if he's worse than his past instructors? In the moment, it did not matter. Every inch of him felt like it was on fire, he wanted to be relaxed more than anything. He pressed his lips together into a line and mewled gently, the most he could achieve at the moment.

"Then," he released the fistful of hair, dropping the younger's head back onto the tiled flooring of the coliseum with a solid smack. He let out a groan of relief, his body giving in and fainting.

 

 

"it is done."


	2. (Chapter One) A Rude Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anti finally wakes up and searches around his strange new home.

Drip, drip, drip sounded the water as it released itself from the ceiling onto the ground. The area smelled of moss and wet stone, as well as fresh rain, wafting in from an open window. The air was thick with humidity, and any average person would have started sweating terribly. Yet Anti's skin grew frigid as he awoke from his dreamless sleep, head throbbing and his entire body aching. Though he could safely say that it was a lot less awful than during the duel, which he appreciated for the time being. Speaking of which, where was that inquisitive bastard from… however long ago it was now?

 

 

     The palms of his hands pressed against the stone floor, the dust coated so thick that he could feel it. He felt almost his entire being was covered with bandages and cleaned, he no longer felt dirtied other than the newfound soot on his hands. His fingertips lightly danced over the gauze concealing his arms, mentally thanking the stranger as his lips twitched into a gentle smile. He stood up, unbalanced, legs trembling under the weight and it took him a moment or two to collect himself. Once he was stable again, he scanned the room.

  
     Cobblestone covered the walls, and stone tiles to the floor; he yawned as the rain continued outside, the sound of it making him sleepy. Anti rubbed his eyes in attempt to keep himself awake and investigated the full-length mirror. It seemed that he wore nothing but a pair of boxers, but the number of bandages covering him seemed like an entire outfit of its own. His brunette hair was frazzled but fresh, assuming his host had assisted in washing him. A light pink dusted his cheeks as he realized how embarrassing it was that this man he was meant to kill had ended up pitying him and bathing him. Though it made him flustered, he shook off the thought and started towards the bedroom’s oaken door.

   The door opened with an elongated creak, the entire structure seeming almost ancient. He gave a small sneeze, the dust spreading from the act of opening the door and tickling his nostrils. There was only silence in the looming hallway, and the lighting was dim, allowing him to see about a meter from himself. Candles rested here and there upon tabletops or in holsters on the walls, and even if they didn’t help the darkness very much, he was still very grateful for their presence. A shudder ran through him as he stepped down the hall, feeling like anything could emerge from the depths of the shadows surrounding him.

  
**“Little dove…”**

  
     The voice was gentle but low, and Anti could practically feel the hot breath on his ear and neck as the words were muttered. He gasped in both surprise and distress, the sensation was terrifying. Out of habit, he glitched erratically, pieces of him going back and forth, green and red surrounding his nonexistent outline. The gasp, too, was glitched, his voice letting out a static-like rumble. As he brought himself back to reality, Anti finally got his first good look at his unrequited rival.

  
     He was an intense display; dark eyes set onto his own, and he sported a tuxedo, ravishingly midnight black like his hair. His skin was an abnormal light grey, and he wore a smirk upon his tanned face. Both his hair and his face looked disheveled, as if he had just stepped out from a powerful windstorm. As well as this, Anti thought he had seen a glitched outline of red and blue, much similarly to his own…

  
     “Don’t scare me like that, douche-bag!” he snapped, his eyes squinting, and eyebrows furrowed firmly in vexation. His opponent (or ex-opponent, he supposed) stared deep into his eyes, looking at them with an expression somewhat resembling curiosity.

  
    **“Pardon me, but what exactly are you?”** he inquired, gently lifting Anti’s chin to look up at him, **“I’ve never seen one’s eyes quite like yours throughout my whole career…”** His green tinted ear twitched in irritation, apparently taking offense that he didn’t know his species.

  
     “Torture Demon, Class 5.” At that, the stranger’s expression lit up.

  
    **“Class 5? That’s the highest ranking, good gracious! You’re a powerful little beauty, aren’t you?”** he chuckled, **“I believe that it is only fate that you have come here, little dove.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really having fun with this series! Hope you guys are enjoying it too! <3 (art belongs to me, please ask/give credit before posting elsewhere, thank you!)


	3. (Chapter Two) Quaint Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anti and Dark have some odd greetings and questions.

                The two walked side by side down the lengthy hallway, the lighting still dim, and it took a lot for Anti to not balance himself against any sort of wall or furniture to make sure he didn’t trip. His companion did not seem phased by the lack of light, however. The man seemed like personified shadows, now that he thought about it. The aura emitted from his presence spoke vastly of threat and secrecy, his body almost covered in black clothing from top to bottom, including his own hair.

                A knowing smile branched across his grey face, his head still facing forward and eyes still looking ahead.

                “ **It seems that I have caught your attention. Is there something…** ” suddenly, many eyes sprouted upon the side of his head closest to Anti, all staring straight through him, “ ** _on my face, perhaps?_** ”

                Anti quickly shook his head in denial, absolutely horrified of the sight before him. The additive eyes slowly dissipated, and the stranger continued his way down the hall.

                “ **That’s good, I was worried that a piece of my supper had found it’s way onto my cheek without me taking notice.** ”

                A shudder shook the younger’s body, still shook up after the image that had been struck into his mind. As they continued through the corridor, he noticed that the walls began to turn into concrete, the elegant candle holders into blaring ceiling lights. Soon enough, they approached empty cells and oddly heavy doors littering the sides. Anti looked back behind him and gasped, no sign of the earlier hallway was left, only the new atmosphere remained.

                Shaking off the dizzy feeling from looking down the long hallway, he finally began to ask a few questions.

                “What’s your name?” his voice sounding a lot smaller than he meant it to.

                His new teacher looked slightly off-put by his inquiry, obviously not expecting him to speak up. He had basically said barely anything since he had come in, so Anti supposed that he had enough reason to feel a bit dumbfounded.

                “ **My name is Dark, but as soon as training starts, you will address to me as ‘sir’. I highly prioritize formality from my trainees.** ”

                “When do you plan to begin training with me?” he fumbled his fingers as he spoke, Dark’s emanation still spoke a hint of threat, and he decided it was not a good idea to push his buttons.

                “ **As soon as you are completely healed, I plan on beginning your indoctrination. Your body took quite a blow from our encounter.** ”

                ‘Yeah, no shit.’ he thought, the injuries still dully stinging with any sudden movement. He recalled the hard-fought battle, barely landing a single scratch on his opponent. However, his mouth watered in remembrance of the moment he finally did damage, Dark’s stagger and shocked expression was extremely gratifying to watch.

                “Why didn’t you kill me?”

 

                Dark’s expression contorted from smug into something a bit softer, his defensive demeanor dropping for a moment. For the first time, Anti saw him hesitate. His eyes blinking rapidly in bafflement, and his body glitched a bit more often than usual. But the moment passed as quickly as it came, his frightening air returning to him, though his voice was oddly gentle.

                “ **When you looked up at me with those burning, bright eyes, I saw a bit of myself in you. I was not born a ferocious man.** ”

                After that, Anti stopped talking, a feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him that he had said plenty for the time being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapters! I'm not the best at really long stories! Hope you enjoyed anyhow!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey lil' toasts! Hope you liked this little baby step in my writing! Much love to you guys!


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